


In A Different Life

by Beccafiend



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beccafiend/pseuds/Beccafiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even without the oppressive regime of No.6, they would be fated to meet. An injured orphan child and the son of a baker. Their destinies were always fated to cross. What happens after is entirely up to chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Different Life

At least it wasn’t raining.

The thought brought him little comfort as he stumbled through the streets. If he didn’t find some sort of help soon, he would probably die. The boy grit his teeth in frustration, continuing onwards. He had to keep moving – he had to keep searching until the very end.

The bullet wound on his shoulder throbbed painfully. He was pretty sure the guy who shot him wouldn’t have been able to afford any sort of anti-coagulant to put on the bullets, but he had yet to stop bleeding. Perhaps it was malnutrition, or maybe the wound was more serious than he thought (though it had still only just grazed him), but his blood had refused to clot properly thus far. Things were not looking good.

He had traveled quite some distance already. He had started in the slums of the city, and had just reached the edges of the more suburban and small-town district surrounding the metropolis. But he was nearing his limit. His body, which had been moving of its own volition for quite some time, had begun to slow as exhaustion settled over him. He kept pressing forward – stopping now meant certain death.

_‘Is this it?’_ he wondered _. ‘Was I born just to die pathetically like this?’_

He was about to give up when he saw it. On the second floor of a small building (probably a bakery based on the smell), a boy stood on the balcony. The window behind him was thrown open innocently, and his arms were outstretched in the slight breeze of the sunset. He almost seemed to be calling to the injured boy below him.

“Come in!” the boy seemed to scream.

After a moment, the boy retreated inside the building, leaving the window open.

It was a miracle.

Without really knowing how, the bleeding boy climbed onto the balcony. He stood in the open window, barely taking in the room around the defenseless boy inside. He let out a small snort of laughter, watching the boy turn around to face him in surprise.

And then darkness.

~derpaderpthisisaline~

Shion thought it was quite a feat that he didn’t jump at least six feet in the air when he heard the voice from the window. Though it was equally alarming to see the other boy – he couldn’t have been much older than Shion himself – faint so suddenly. Without even stopping to think, he rushed to the boy’s side, carefully turning him onto his back. His breathing was regular, and he didn’t seem to have hit his head on the way down, which was a good sign. But the wound on the other boy’s shoulder was still bleeding freely, though rather sluggishly, and it looked as though it had been doing so for quite some time. He must have lost a lot of blood as it was, and something needed to be done soon.

“Hey, are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you wake up?” he called to the boy, shaking him gently. The boy stirred after a few tense moments, his eyes slowly fluttering open. Shion found himself struck by their color – he’d never seen such a silver color before, and as the haze of unconsciousness faded from them, he noticed a strong vitality to them.

“Can you understand what I’m saying?” Shion forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. He had no time to be distracted by the boy’s eyes right now.

“Yeah…” the boy’s voice was a bit soft, but not weak. That was another good sign.

“That wound on your shoulder – I’ll treat it for you,” Shion said, standing up. The other boy gave him a skeptical look as he sat up. Shion ignored it as he searched for the emergency kit.

“Do you even know how to treat a wound like this?” he asked. His voice was a bit stronger.

“Well I’ve read about the theory of stitching wounds in books, but I’ve never gotten the chance to test out the knowledge.”

The boy stared at him for a moment, as if unsure if this was what he really wanted. After a moment, he gave a small sigh, and offered up his arm.

“Do what you want.”

~derpaderpthisisanotherline~

This boy was weird, of this he was certain. He looked to be an average, middle-class citizen, with a comfortable lifestyle and little hardship. And yet, here he was extending a hand to help a stranger who had intruded in his home mere minutes before.

There had been a number of people on the street when he’d first gotten shot, and a great number more that had seen him as he ran down the streets. Not a single one of them extended a helping hand, or even bothered calling the hospital. But this boy had offered to treat his wounds without a second thought – without asking a single question about his name or how he’d gotten his wounds.

_‘People like this… really exist,’_ he thought as he watched the boy clean his wound. He had an excited grin on his face.

“You’re really weird, you know.”

“I am?” the other boy replied, his face as innocently open as the window behind them. He was genuinely confused.

“You’re treating the wounds of a complete stranger. And you haven’t even asked my name.”

“Oh, but I haven’t given you my name, either,” he explained as if was obvious. He pulled a syringe filled with mystery liquid out of the medical kit.

“Woah, what is that for?” the injured boy asked, recoiling nervously.

“It’s anesthetic – to numb your arm for the stitches.”

With a reproachful look, he allowed the other boy to take his arm again. He winced slightly when the needle pierced his skin, but otherwise remained as stoic as he could. The boy handed him a bit of gauze, and instructed him to hold it over the wound until it numbed.

“I’m Shion, by the way,” the other boy said as he prepared what seemed to be the stitching tools. The grin was back. “Alright, if the area is numb, I’ll start.”

He removed the gauze, and watched as the brown-haired boy began to work. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, not that he would admit it out loud.

“Nezumi,” he broke the silence that had settled between them. Shion looked up in surprise.

“What?”

“My name.”

“That’s not right…” Shion’s face looked contemplative for a moment.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Ah, nothing,” the boy blushed, and turned his full attention back to Nezumi’s arm.

_‘Not right, huh?’_ Nezumi thought of those people on the street – the disdainful looks they shot him as he crouched in dirtied alleyways and in small crawlspaces just to escape the elements. The way they spit out “rat” at him as he dug in dumpsters just to get the food needed to survive. It was the only thing anyone had ever called him by as far as he remembered.

But perhaps Shion was right. It probably wasn’t the name he’d been born with, if he’d even had a name to begin with. His parents were gone long before he was old enough to remember them, and what had become of them and why they’d left him was something he was pretty sure he’d never know. But Nezumi had never had that much time to wonder or even care about what had happened to them – he’d been too busy trying to survive. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what his name might have once been, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. There was nothing to be gained from dwelling on it now.

“Done!” Shion exclaimed brightly, pulling back to admire his work. “There are some clothes on the bed you can change into.”

Nezumi stood up as Shion cleaned up the supplies, and moved to the bed, spotting the shirt carelessly tossed across it.

“Not exactly stylish, is it?” he commented, picking up the plain shirt and examining it. Shion gave a small snort.

“Not like you’re one to talk,” he retorted. So he _did_ have a bit of fight in him. Nezumi smirked.

There was a knock at the door, causing both boys to jump. A woman’s voice came from behind it.

“Shion, honey, I’m going to bed now. Don’t stay up too late, okay? And remember to close your window.”

Nezumi didn’t move a muscle, fear spiking through him. What would this woman – Shion’s mother, he assumed – do if she found out he was here? He couldn’t trust her to have the same strange hospitality as her son. Shion glanced over at him before responding.

“Alright, mom, I’ll remember. Good night!”

“Good night, honey.”

They both remained silent as her footsteps moved away from the door and farther away. There was the sound of a door closing, then nothing. Nezumi let out a breath he didn’t realized he was holding. Shion’s body visibly relaxed. He looked at Nezumi, who had changed, and gave him a bright smile.

“Wait one moment, I’ll get you some food!”

Nezumi watched the door close behind him. He really was a natural airhead. A complete idiot. But he’d saved Nezumi, when no one else had ever bothered to help him at all. What was it that made him so willing to help out a complete stranger like this?

His musings were interrupted by the return of the boy in question. He carried a tray, which held a loaf of bread and two mugs of what appeared to be hot chocolate. He smiled apologetically.

“It’s not much, but it’s what we have right now.”

It was more food than Nezumi had eaten in a week, but he didn’t bother to say this as he tried his best not to shove the whole loaf in his mouth at once. He tried to pace himself by taking sips of hot chocolate every now and then. It was by no means the most glorious meal, but it was the best thing he’d had to eat in a very, very long time.

“Thank you,” he said once he’d finished, feeling a deep sense of gratitude welling within him. He didn’t notice the answering tenderness in the other boy’s gaze as he allowed himself to fall back onto the bed. He was exhausted, and he knew he needed to rest. Shion, who had seated himself beside NEzumi on the bed, moved the tray, and leaned in to rest his cheek on Nezumi’s forehead.

“Just as I thought, you have a fever. You really should take some antibiotics for that. You’re burning up!”

“You’re pretty warm, yourself,” Nezumi responded, grabbing Shion’s arm lightly as he tried to stand up.

“But if you don’t take something it will only get worse,” Shion tried to insist, attempting to free himself from Nezumi’s grip. Nezumi tugged him down, causing the boy to fall on top of him, and closed his eyes.

“I just want to sleep,” he insisted. Shion made a vague noise of protest, but didn’t try to get up again.

“So living humans are warm, huh,” Nezumi mused quietly.

_‘Living humans are warm. People are willing to help other people. That is what you have taught me tonight, Shion. I will not forget this lesson, not for as long as I live.’_

Feeling strangely secure, he let his breathing even out as sleep overtook him.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Tumblr wanted an AU that started off somewhat like canon with a street rat Nezumi getting injured and being treated by Shion. And Karan finds him the next day and insists he stay. And then I was inspired. This is what I have so far. |D I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I'll try to get it written in the next couple weeks. Feel free to kick me if I don't. xD


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